Lord, Let My Orange Be Juicy

A prayer for trying hard women

Photo by Mae Mu on Unsplash

Dear Lord —

(I know I’m not supposed to look like I’m trying or ask for credit
or anything

but)

If I put 5:00 AM on my Alarm
and actually get up
and stare at the coffee pot until it floats to me with brown salvation in its nonexistent cartoon hand

If I sit wrapped in the cocoon sweater I saw on my Feed
(because trends)
After surviving 40 minutes of yin yoga and quiet reflection
(because me-care)
and a quick shower with castile soap and sulfate-free organic shampoo (because environment)

And a multitudinous, meticulous groom with heat-styling and products
And tools worth more than eight student loan payments
(because smell good)

And shave the legs without a bump and wax the bits without a grump
And zip the jeans without a jump
(because look good looking good)
and eat flax seed on my locally delivered yogurt
even if I’m not hungry
(because be good)

Will this tiny leafy clementine I got from the Better Market that’s an HOUR away from the rest of my existence
Actually taste good?

I know it’s a lot to ask.

But Lord, save me from the oranges that are shiny
pristine
and look so succulent
and are actually just wooden death on the inside.

Amen.